Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. “Is it your maid?” he asked. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. ” Ann Veronica turned her back on the Michaelmas daisies, and faced toward the house with an air of a duty completed. They began the evening like usual, driving down highways and byways.
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